Best Snake Pit Poems


Lovelore

What is love?

The North Star guiding
a lost seafarer home
or the Siren’s song luring
him to the rocky shores?
Is it frolicking in the moonlit 
nights in a field of flowers
or trudging across
an arid, scorching desert?
Is it a freeway to bliss and joy
or a meandering trail
through a rugged terrain
of grief and woe?
Is it a cup of hemlock
or a chalice of nectar?
Is it a snake pit
or a bridge over the chasm
of hatred and bigotry?
Is it an ever-elusive mirage
or the rock of Gibraltar?

Love is all that and more
and yet it’s nothing,
A mere emotion, a feeling,
At first blush, irrelevant 
and yet it’s an impetus, a catalyst--
An euphoria permeating our entire being.

It is here, it is there,
and it is everywhere...
Yet, it is nowhere!
It creates mayhem and chaos
if it turns and walks away.

Love knows no boundaries,
It follows no customs or creed;
It cares not for any
race or language.

Not unlike air and water
or the enlivening sunlight--
Vital in good measures
devastating in excess,
Vexing as a thorn but
as enticing as the fragrance.

Love is but love!

No one has seen it
Yet everyone is touched by it,
Its constant presence is overwhelming
Yet you’ll never find
if you go looking for it,
It traverses distant shores,
Yet it doggedly never
leaves your threshold.

You are born with it
but never can you own it,
Forever it hovers around you
but never can you rein it in.

“Love is a many-splendored thing”.
Yet none can explain its true meaning,
It would call through a bullhorn
and you may not hear it,
It merely whispers in your ears
and turns your life topsy-turvy,
More furious than the flowing lava
It would give you the chills if provoked.

He indeed is a poor soul
bereft of hopes and dreams
who befriendeth not love!



~05/02/16
~Free Verse on Love contest by Laura Loo

~"Love turns the world around"
contest by Nayda Ivette Negron

Premium Member To Two and Too Explained

To Too and Two Explained

To market, to the car, to the grocery, to the pool, to the snake pit, to the park
In order to, invariably to their thinking, I would do anything to.
The most common to – it can be used most of the time.

Two. Do I even have to explain this one?
Okay.
2.

Too
Too many, too much, too notorious, too simple, too amazing, too priggish.
Too much – use an extra 0.
You can never have too many 0’s when you are talking about too many.

Two. Really?
Okay.
One more time.
2.

By the way, too also means ALSO.
Also=too, too=also, also=too, too=also.
He came too, she grew a pair too, they laughed too.

You really want me to explain two again?
I am too tired, so you had better stop saying it to me.
My muse is tired of two too.

Kiss the Snake

my meme replacement therapy
is going quite well
because I can't handle everything thrown at me
everything is a lot and GIGO to boot
the fibrous growth in my ear
said that the future signals us in some way
maybe coded glances wink wink
but we're not sure of the spelling
a real spectacle of setbacks
a bleeding archaeological phantom
engineered to manipulate
moving my pen in gleeful jerks
with a genteel appetite for mayhem
which is why I am now sharing
the secret of life with you
ready
mind is derivative
well that's it
looks like I've blown my cover
if this sounds like propaganda then it is
now to get on to the meatier part
first a matter of indexing
last a matter of indexing
buzzards are circling my guardian bottle of muscatel
and a couple of robins too
a tempestuous tune in a teapot
from follow the bouncing ball 
to Rocky Horror
occult syntax as a 2nd language
and that was the last surface
he ever palpated
because the sages are perpetually boring
but have good circulation and a ruddy face
with long lists of abjurations as usual
one of them spoke just now
sending me in to negotiate
because I have a snake pit for a soul
on further reflection it turns out
I have many souls
most of them severe critics
several are wind up toys
academic or practical you decide
existence is both diagrammatic
and ready to throw a punch
in an ancient tangle of inconsequentials
well perplexity is the root of all humor
how is it that some ideas 
are interpreted by other ideas for example
but whatever you do
never let an ideology sit in court
we know too much to be stupid any longer


From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
http://tinyurl.com/nhfk6dr


Forgetting Fault With Forgiveness

I-t's time to forget the fault, 
S-aying you forgive someone; 
M-ake it easy for your life, 
A-ccepting what's been done.
E-asy to forget, it's true, if you possess purity of heart; 
L-et animosity vanish, let anger and hatred depart.

M-ake the mistake be forgotten, 
A-fter your mind has made up; 
N-ever let nonchalant way
G-et into the crack or gap.
L-et the wrong be brought
I-nto the night's oblivion; 
C-hoose the righteous path, 
M-aking a walk in the horizon.
O-bliterate the mare's nest, as well as the snake pit; 
T-ry your best to erase them, eliminating them bit by bit.

G-rave sin is all but nothing
U-nless it's not forgiven; 
M-ove on for a fresh start, 
A-llowing your soul to open.
W-ords of God can remove
I-ll feelings, tumble and mess; 
D-ay twenty-seven September pray, forgetting fault with forgiveness.

Mr. Goodbar

Teacher, teacher what are you doing there? 
You'll never find Mr. Goodbar in that snake pit.
Preoccupation with admiration is making you late.
Stop this insanity, madness abate.
Anticipating a prince but getting a frog
Absence of clarity
Walking into a thick, dense fog.
Trusting and naive
The amphibians deceive
And take your very breath from within you
So much strife, the end of life
And never finding that Mr. Goodbar.

Premium Member Facing Fear

I once suffered a strong arm robbery on a dark Chicago street. Halfway down the block, I saw two young men turn the corner and headed in my direction.    That had never happened before, and I could not have outrun them if I wanted to. So I proceeded and faced them head-on, accepting whatever was coming my way. Afraid and speechless after being robbed of $90, I continued my duties for the night. Why did I go home, refresh myself, and proceed to continue my assigned task in spite of my fears?. You don't always know why, but sometimes, you just do ''it" anyway. 

On another occasion, a gentleman said to me, "Don't you know that you are in 'the snake pit?" Again, although calm and sounded no alarms, I feared great bodily harm.  And just in the nick of time, a good Samaritan from the neighborhood came to my rescue, demanding that I be left alone.                                                                                                   

I was guilty of trying to make a difference in the lives of drug addicts and spent many hours pleading with them to make a change.  Doubtless, I was guilty of introducing Christ to the inner city people of Chicago.  During the late 60's and early 70's, I was frequently found on streets in danger zones and in high rise housing projects.                                                             

I knew the danger that I constantly faced as I went many times alone in places I had to go. In spite of the fear of real danger, I proceeded anyway.  I'm not the bravest person around, not a fighter, nor do I carry weapons, but on many occasions I have forced myself in the midst of my fears, to walk through the valley of the shadow of death.  I knew that God was with me, but I must confess, I was still afraid and feared evil.  However, I refused to allow the fear of evil to arrest, captivate, imprison, and hold me hostage.                                                                                                                                 

09182018PoSoupContest, Mid Sept 2018 Premiere, Brian Strand                                                                 Psalm 23


The Many Faces of Love

What is love?

The North Star guiding
a lost seafarer home,
Or the Siren song luring
him to the rocky shores?
Is it frolicking in the moonlit night
in a field of flowers
Or trudging across
an arid, scorching desert?
Is it a freeway to bliss and joy
Or a meandering trail
through a rugged terrain
of grief and woe?
Is it a cup of hemlock
Or a chalice of nectar?
Is it a snake pit
Or a bridge over the chasm
of hatred and bigotry?
Is it an ever-elusive mirage
Or the rock of Gibraltar?

Love is all that and more,
And yet it’s nothing,
A mere emotion, a feeling –
At first blush, irrelevant 
And yet, 
It’s an impetus, a catalyst –
An euphoria permeating our entire being--
"Love is a many-splendored thing!"*

*(P.F.Webster / Sammy Fain)

~"Types of Love" contest by Nayda Negron

Love Lore

What is love?

The North Star guiding
a lost seafarer home
or the Siren’s song luring
him to the rocky shores?
Is it frolicking in the moonlit nights
in a field of flowers
or trudging across
an arid, scorching desert?
Is it a freeway to bliss and joy
or a meandering trail
through the rugged terrain
of grief and woe?
Is it a cup of hemlock
or a chalice of nectar?
Is it a snake pit
or a bridge over the chasm
of hatred and bigotry?
Is it an ever-elusive mirage
or the rock of Gibraltar?

Love is all that and more
and yet it’s nothing,
A mere emotion, a feeling,
At first blush, irrelevant
and yet it’s an impetus, a catalyst –
An euphoria permeating our entire being.

It is here, it is there
and it is everywhere…
Yet, it is nowhere!
It creates mayhem and chaos
if it turns and walks away.

Love knows no boundaries,
It follows no customs or creed;
It cares not for any
race or language.

Not unlike air and water
or the enlivening sunlight –
Vital in good measures
devastating in excess,
Vexing as a thorn but
as enticing as the fragrance.

Love is but love.

No one has seen it
yet everyone is touched by it,
Its constant presence is overwhelming
Yet you’ll never find
if you go looking for it,
It traverses distant shores,
yet it doggedly never
leaves your threshold.

You are born with it
but can never own it,
Forever it hovers around you
but never can you rein it in.

“Love is a many-splendored thing”*
Yet none can explain its true meaning,
It would call through a bullhorn
but you may not hear it,
It merely whispers in your ears
and turns your life topsy-turvy,
More furious than the flowing lava
It would give you the chills if provoked.

He indeed is a poor soul 
bereft of hopes and dreams
who befriendeth not love.



(*Love is a many-splendored thing", Lyrics by Paul Francis Webster.)


~"What Love is?" contest by Bobby May

Cage Rebellion

If they cage me...
  confine with concrete
cold under feet
  absorbs into soul as I grow cold
Breathing the air
 that isn't there...stagnant wrench
of condemned and contrite
Locked down night sleepless
  Left with silence and criminal murmurs
Fits of reflection disturb and distract
  I fall asleep to waking angry
      tired     defeated

If they cage me...
  take sun from sky
Wind from leaves 
  shoe laces and sleeves
  take comfort, safety, 
                     solace serenity
Bartered for bath in depravity
  Walls scrawled with Hate and Stupidity
etched in grimed paint framed in iron
  bars, walls tainted with disease

If they cage me...
  deprive life of wellness
Surround me with venom
  snakes spit 
         snake pit of guile slithering
skillful villains
 Guarded, forced tough exterior
fear and weakness swallowed
  My self hollowed, Dark eyes
deep set, menacing machination
  feign fascination in the face
of combative small talk

If they cage me...
  the brake won't break me
The foot presses firm 
  crimps my neck...but yet I breath
I breath freely defiant
 not obsessed with
         oppressed state
Clenched teeth and fists
  mind clenched to resist
The walls will confine me
  they will never define me
     never will they ever
          destroy me

The Snake Pit, The Bee Hive, and The Lions' Den

Watch your step, so you don't end up here
Where people like you simply disappear
To be devoured like prey, they're on the hunt
Looking for their next victim for them to stunt

Beware of the snake pit, the ones who take
The ones who would drown you in a lake
Of their own selfish needs and desires
With a tongue forked in two, the best of liars

Don't shake the bee hive, you'll anger the queen
All of her minions buzz around free
Selecting their next target to sting
It could be you next, their reasoning is obscene

Careful of the lions' den, looking for a meal
They look mighty noble, but all they do is steal
With brute force they pounce on their target
The language of violence is the only one they get

So sharpen your knives, and ready your mind
You don't want to find yourself in their bind
They fill up this world, on every corner you see
Is a place where one of these three could be

Cool Moe B

Cool Moe B

Back in the day we used to pray
 Others say it ought not be that way
 Snake pit, lion's den you need someone to be your friend
 Your a soldier in the army of God

 Cool Moe B in the place to be
 Rocking them rhymes in the land of glee
 A city kid playing high on his grid
 Shook the bananas pole with a tea leaf

 Downtown hoods shooting dope in the back alley
 Fixing with the switch homeboy got a nervous twitch
 A beacon of honor in his high vested swag
 Shooting pool in the patio needing a place to go

 Smoking weed watch it bleed it will knock you to your knees
 Brillo pads for fenders is it any wonder
 The soldier in the middle playing second fiddle
 Take me back to those good old days getting lost in a purple haze

 Hoops dreams watch the bitches scream
 Another dip of an ice cream flavor
 A stereo or capper me and Eric B with a nice full plate of fish
 Sorry that I missed burning this switch as we go free style

Premium Member Feeling Criminal

 She feels your eyes on her like she's a criminal 
And the feeling is not deemed subliminal  
Manipulate others to see it your way
Minimizing her just makes your whole day 

What are you thinking that she would steal from you 
In possessions and home, she has as much as you do 
The difference being she got her's all alone 
You relied on others to help pay for your home

Following her like she's a snake that will bite 
As if she has enough venom to strike 
Dismissing her as if a servant isn’t right 
Putting her out like the trash every night 

Holding against her things from the past 
A couple of times when she strayed from the path 
Teenagers make mistakes the same as you do 
Why do you treat her as if she were still two 

Criticize her to friends and family  
One day you will turn and there no one will be 
She has about had it with your dictatorship 
Magnify things in your mind ain’t legit 

Raised her kids had trials in their teenage years 
If she held it against them she’d hear nothing but jeers 
Looking for scorpions in your snake pit 
Look around closely she's not that viper that spits 

Sorry that she has always been your side thorn 
You broke her and now the relationship is torn 
Don’t you realize yet that she is the only one left 
By not mentioning you deny that she even exist 

You brag about the children she has born 
Yet she is the one you act like sprang from the corn 
One day you’ll wake up and soon you’ll realize 
Her Teenage mistakes are the reason they thrive 

Without those mistakes, you would be all alone 
Who is the only one who stuck close to home 
Take a good look she's a woman full grown
Think about that when you toss up your bones

Premium Member Truth Be Told

The theme park was crowded. Elephants on roller coasters, mosquitos bracing the water slide, ferrets enjoying the ferris wheel and leopards shooting crack in the gallery. A myriad of personification and abundance of fairy tailed suggestions. ‘Its a small, small world’ blared from Magic Mountain as Cinderella dressed up as an indentured laborer in a fancy shoe shop. A comedy of terror ensued in the ghost train, conducted by a retired wall street banking giant resuming the corporate identity of a demon slayer. seemingly seeking redemption, but of course, he had another ace in his sleeve. 
All animals were equal but of course the apocalypse had struck in 1984 and the Lord of the Flies was buzzing disguised as an orange clock, collected tickets and sold strawberry ice cream.

An English patient from a nearby lunatic asylum, thought he was a beetle, but Kafka had married Mary Antoinette and was sipping champagne from her braw. She, for once was not eating cake and was thus unveiling the myth of leavened bread at her altar. A merry go round of deception in the snake pit in which a contortionist was trapped in limbo and loin cloth from hell. Mary Magdalene teased him with with a vile of anti venomous serum and soothed his wavering agony in anticipation of saving the world. 

Hot cross buns offered cold comfort, but the world was on withdrawal after management had banned coke as a sugar substitute. Sweet dreams were made of lactose free roach skin and the party dwellers reveled in aspirations and nightmares, elevated to prime position in the national canon. A truly amazing ode to joy and poignant distraction from the pawn shop of modern living. 

But when the bell struck midnight and Dali melted his digital clock, all went back to the nothingness of the human condition. ‘Your shift starts in eight hours, nothing has moved because of a little fun in paradise’s ante chambers.’ Thanks God the crowd were already wearing their flannel night gowns. ‘Gotta live life to the full and heaven can’t wait.

Vote

I fear our votes must be scraps or spoils
No rich man knoweth our toils
Upon us he performs a curse
For he is governed by his purse
We seem to draw no wit
From our previous failing
When into the snake pit
We go a-trailing
Honey words, sweet verse
Driven to hell in the politician's hearse

Premium Member Seize the Ceasing Day

when evening’s dawn descended on her restless soul

defeated dusk and dust collected deep into the night

cobwebs spun an open trapdoor over broken peace

insomnia prevailed as a cynical reminder of treason

in which reason failed to align with posturing emotions


the sleeping pills weaved their paradoxical intentions

a coffin bare and wood worms eating cross and death

herein lies deconstruction waiting for festering resolve

the many voices in her head dissonant and venomous 

chanted cacophony crescendo endless loops refrain


instead of sheep she counted church bells from a tower

of illusionary strength meant to guide spiritual reckoning

and for a moment she succumbed to dream’s surrender

only to wake up once more to venture barred from sleep

the truth loomed large but reality hallucinated in its wake


the underworld transmogrified into a sordid snake pit

toxic synapses sharpened their swords in anxious anger

until she forgot what battles to fight and on whose side

fangs pierced her translucent skin and vulnerable mind

injected fuel and ignited combustion on a pyre of doubt


when morning dew penetrated the musty blight of daylight

as she heard the smell and touched distasteful gory visions

she braced herself for another swirl of tired free falling descent

resigned to inevitable bruises lacerations bandages and pus

salved the wounds in resilient longing for love and kindness


not easily told because nightmares have their own momentum

and to watch from sidelines without script nor healing miracle

leaves little to do but take her into his helpless arms and heart

to say nothing but let the embrace do the talking and caress

and hope that the flickering candle survives wax wane and wake


08th August 2020

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